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Godfrey Marten, Undergraduate By: Charles Turley (1868-1940) |
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UNDERGRADUATE
BY CHARLES TURLEY AUTHOR OF 'GODFREY MARTEN, SCHOOLBOY' LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN 1904
All rights reserved
CONTENTS
CHAP. I. OXFORD
II. INTERVIEWS
III. THE RESULT OF THE FRESHERS' MATCH
IV. UNEXPECTED PEOPLE
V. THE WINE
VI. JACK WARD AND DENNISON
VII. THE INN AT SAMPFORD
VIII. LUNCHEON WITH THE WARDEN
IX. A SURPRISE
X. MY MAIDEN SPEECH
XI. A CRICKET MATCH AT BURTINGTON
XII. THE USE AND ABUSE OF AN ESSAY
XIII. NINA COMES TO OXFORD
XIV. GUIDE, HOST AND NURSE
XV. MISHAPS
XVI. THE SCHEMES OF DENNISON
XVII. THE PROFESSOR AND HIS SON
XVIII. THE ENERGY OF JACK WARD
XIX. THE WARDEN AND THE BRADDER
XX. THE HEDONISTS
XXI. ONE WORD TOO MANY
XXII. A TUTORSHIP
XXIII. OUR LAST YEAR
CHAPTER I OXFORD The night before I left home for Oxford I had a talk with my father.
He was not of the sentimental kind, but I knew that he had a rare
fondness for my brother, my sister Nina and myself, and I have never
had a moment when I did not return his affection. He had always been
bothered by my lack of seriousness, and he doubted whether I should
really get the best out of 'Varsity life. After telling me that the
time had come for me to treat things more seriously, he finished up by
saying: "I am going to give you two hundred pounds a year, which is
more than I can afford, and which, with your exhibition, must be enough
for you. I have put that amount to your credit in the bank at Oxford,
and I don't expect to hear anything about money from you either during
the term or when you are at home. You ought to know by this time what
money is worth, and that debt is a thing you must avoid. Be a man,
Godfrey, and don't forget that the first step towards becoming one is
to behave like a gentleman." I shook his hand to show that I understood, for he wanted neither
promises nor protestations, and if I had been able to be sentimental he
would have left the room without listening to me. He didn't say much, but what he did say was beautifully simple, and on
leaving him I felt very solemn and, since I must tell the truth, very
important. The idea of having a bank account was one which did not
lose its glamour for several days. There was something about my first
cheque book which pleased me immensely, for I had not been brought up
in a nest of millionaires, and am glad to confess that until I went to
Oxford the possibilities attached to a five pound note were almost
without limit. Fred Foster who had been staying with me and I parted at Oxford
railway station without falling on each other's necks, but although we
did not cause any further obstruction on a platform already far too
crowded, we understood that the friendship which had prospered during
so many years at school was not going to be interrupted because he had
got a scholarship at Oriel while I was an exhibitioner of St.
Cuthbert's. I began by losing my luggage, which was exactly the way some people
would have expected me to begin, and when I arrived at the college
lodge I must have looked as if I had come to spend a Saturday to Monday
visit. One miserable bag was all I possessed, and the porter viewed
me, as I thought, with suspicion. He was a grumpy old person, and when
I told him that I had lost my luggage he grunted, "Gentlemen do,
especially when they're fresh," which I thought very fair cheek on his
part, though I did not feel at that moment like telling him so. Then having said that my name was Marten, he hunted in a list and told
a man to take my bag to Number VII. staircase in the back quadrangle.
I followed, feeling rather dejected, and I cannot say that the first
sight of my rooms tended to raise my spirits. They were small and
dismal, the window opened on to a balustrade which, if it prevented me
from falling into the quadrangle, also managed to shut out both light
and air. The furniture can be described correctly by the word
adequate; there were some chairs and a table, college furniture for
which I was privileged to pay rent... Continue reading book >>
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